


Not Okay

by Citlali



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5208941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Citlali/pseuds/Citlali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daredevilkink fill.<br/>Foggy/any or Gen, dealing with sexual assault.<br/>I've seen this done with Matt and Karen, but never Foggy.<br/>What happens? Does someone say that he's lying? That it does not happen to guys?<br/>What happens when the seemingly open book and goofy sidekick has some dark shit going on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Edited. Originally posted to daredevilkink

 

**Dealing with sexual assault.**

* * *

 

 

 

This shouldn’t be so weird. He’s read stories like this in Playboy when he was a teenager.

 

Most guys would find what happened to be really hot, wouldn't they?

 

* * *

 

It happened like this...

 

He was at Josie's with Matt and Karen.  It was a great night.  

 

Matt and Karen leave because they are sensible people.  Foggy is having fun and he stays.  He meets a beautiful and interesting woman at the bar and they get to talking. She's really smart and nice.  She lives close by.  Foggy decides, why not?  He walks her home.  

 

What can he say, he’s a gentleman.

 

_Want to come up and have a coffee before you go home?_

 

_Sure. Why not?_

 

He goes up. Her apartment is nice. It smells like lavender.  She has a white leather couch and orange throw pillows.  He sits at the kitchen island and she makes him a coffee in her french press.  She adds flavor.  It tastes amazing.  He should bring her around the office to teach Karen how to make coffee.  Or maybe he should just start buying decent coffee beans.  

 

He calls a cab on his cell phone.  

 

 _Can I use your bathroom?_  He asks her.  

 

 _Of course.  Just beside the bedroom._  

 

He goes.  He is developing a case of apartment envy.  

 

He returns and drinks his coffee.  Does it taste a little different than before?  He's drunk.  Of course things taste strange after drinking an eel.

 

It hits fast. Wow. He feels dizzy. Unsteady.  He stopped drinking nearly an hour ago, why does it seem to be hitting him now?

 

 _Are you okay?_ She asks.

 

_Yeah. Just need a minute._

 

_Do you want to lay down?_

 

_Yes, thank you._

 

It’s hard to stand up. She leads him to a small bedroom, it’s dark. She doesn’t flip on the light as she helps him into bed.

 

 _This okay?_ She asks.

 

 _Mmmnhmm_ , is about as coherent as he’s able to get. He can’t coordinate his limbs. His eyes feel heavy. He feels a hand on his arm...  And then it's as if he's sinking.

 

...Waking hurts. Uncomfortable. His arms feel stretched. His shoulders are sore.  

 

His arms are stretched. He pulls in. He can’t. His legs too. He can’t move. What the hell? He still feels dizzy. Calls out.

 

The light flicks on. She’s there.

 

 _What’s going on?_   He isn’t scared, not yet, just confused.

 

She comes closer and sits on the edge of the bed. She runs her hand over his chest. He’s uncomfortable. She undoes his pants. pulls them down over his hips.

 

Now he is scared. He likes sex. He likes the mutual enjoyment of a good lay. He does not like this.

 

 _I don't like this._  

 

This is where she is supposed to get embarrassed, apologise, and set him free. They'll laugh, he's okay, no real harm done. He'll go home with a weird story to tell.  

  

That doesn't happen.  

 

 _Shh.  You'll enjoy it._ She says.  

 

She pulls down his underwear.  She strokes.  

 

He bucks involuntarily. He feels himself respond to her touches, even though he is trying not to. She pinches, and pulls, and scratches. It doesn't feel good. So why is his body reacting? He wants to make it stop.

 

It hurts.

 

_Stop. I’m not into this._

 

She places her hand on his throat and squeezes her fingers just enough that he chokes a little.

 

_Be quiet._

 

He stills.

 

_I can make this good for you. Don’t fight._

_Please stop._

She doesn't stop.

 

When she is done, she gets up and walks away.

 

He is cold.  He feels sick.  He's shivering.  

 

When she comes back she’s dressed. She’s clean. She looks normal. She pats his head.

 

_You were a good sport. Go clean yourself up before you go._

 

She undoes the straps on his wrists and ankles. He hastily pulls up his pants.

 

Yes, he's a mess, but he can't stay here. He leaves. He's disoriented, he's not sure where he is, but it doesn't take long to find a familiar landmark.  

 

It’s a long walk home.

 

He turns on all the lights in his apartment. He throws his clothes in the laundry. Showers. He sits on the couch. He feels… he doesn't know. He doesn't feel good. He eventually falls asleep on the couch. He doesn't want to go to bed.

 

He hears his alarm in the morning. Gets up to go turn it off. He feels nauseous. Groggy. Goes back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

The phone rings. He sees the time. Ten am.

 

“How’s the hangover?”

 

It’s Matt.  He can hear the smile in his voice.  The shit eating grin.  He's probably five seconds away from reminding Foggy that he shouldn't have drank the eel.

 

“When did you end up getting home?” Matt asks.

 

Foggy looks at the clock. As if that’s going to help him. “Some time around four, I think? I don’t remember.”

 

Matt laughs. “Wild night?”

 

Foggy doesn't answer.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

“Coming into work?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He gets up. He’s sore. Sees himself in the mirror. Faint bruises on his wrists. eyes bloodshot. There are hickies on his chest. He shivers. He doesn’t wants to think about it.  

 

He’s always enjoyed sex before. He’s good at it.

 

He goes into work.

 

They've got a trial coming up and he spends the day working with Matt at the conference table.

 

He's tired. He knows that he's bringing the office moral down with his shitty mood, and so he tries to be more upbeat.

 

Matt and Karen assume it's just the hangover.

 

"Did you keep drinking after we left?"  Matt asks.  

 

"Yeah.  I really over did it."

 

"At least you got home okay."

 

He gets through the day. Barely.

 

Matt stops him after. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

Matt is listening. He's waiting. 

 

Foggy knows he can tell him anything, but he doesn't know what to say.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

They are at Josie's. Foggy does not stay alone at the bar anymore, and he ends up at Matt's apartment.

 

Foggy feels loose and relaxed. It's been a good night. "Is it okay if I crash on your couch?"

 

"Of course." Matt answers. He comes and plops down beside him. "Anytime."

 

Foggy curls up in the corner of the couch, his back against the armrest and faces Matt. "You have more beer?"

 

"You drank the last one."

 

"Fine.  Then entertain me.  Tell me something funny. You must come across bizarre stuff all the time."

 

"What do you mean?"  

 

"Buddy, I feel like there is so much I’ve missed out on. Can you imagine the shit we could have pulled in law school if I knew the things you can hear?  I mean, you can hear a mouse fart a block away."

 

"I can't hear a mouse fart a block away. Half a block. Tops."  Matt manages to sound completely serious until they both dissolve into a fit of giggles.  

 

"There was a guy on stilts." Matt starts, and he tells the story. Foggy feels like he is just about to suffocate from laughing so hard by the end of it.

 

"How about you?"  Matt asks.

 

"What about me? I'm just a regular guy, remember?  No superhero stories here."

 

"Foggy, please."  Matt urges.  

 

They both know that despite the complete lack of spandex and leather attire Foggy does come across more than his fair share of strange and unusual.  

 

But Foggy is drunk.  He is feeling good.  Weird. Yeah. Something weird happened to him a few months back, but his brain is too slow in warning him that this is not a fun story and not something he ever intended to tell.  

 

"Remember that night a few months back we were at Josie's?  I stayed behind, I think because she wanted me to look over something on her lease. Anyway, I stayed late after you guys were already gone. And there was this woman. We got to talking and I walked her home, and she offered me a coffee. I think it was drugged, cause the next thing I knew I was tied down on a bed." And Foggy stops talking because now his brain has caught up, and he remembers exactly why he shouldn't be talking about this. "You know, never mind, really not a good story after all."

 

"What happened?"

 

“Nothing. Nothing happened.”

 

"Foggy."

 

There was no laughing now. Foggy feels like shit for ruining the mood.  He'd been having fun.  "Matt, just drop it."

 

"What happened next?"  Matt insists.

 

Foggy sighs. "Fine. What do you think happened? We had sex. Then I went home."

 

"But you didn't like it.  Is that- that's what you're saying isn't it?"  Matt is sitting very still.  He is staring at him, literally, and Foggy knows that even though there is no actual sight involved all the rest of Matt's senses are focused right on him. "You realize that you just described a sexual assault, don't you?"

 

"Come on, Matt." Foggy groaned and leaned further back into the couch. "I'm shouldn't have said anything. Forget I said anything at all and let’s go back to having fun. What do you think of the Mets this season?"

 

"Do you know who she is?"

 

"No. And yes I did try to find out. I never met her before that night. Josie doesn't remember her. I’ve walked down the block her apartment is on about ten times and for the life of me, I can’t even remember what building it was in. Matt, seriously, it isn't that big of a deal."

 

"If Karen told you the same story. Would you say the same thing?"

 

"No. But she’s a girl, Matt. That's different."

 

"How would you feel if I told you something like that happened to me?"

 

Foggy was quiet. "Okay. I'd totally want to go kick someone's ass." He sighed and turned to face Matt again, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around his arm. "But I'm fine. I wasn't hurt."

 

"What if you aren't the only one she's done this to. What if there are others. Did you file a police report?"

 

“I did. Two days after it happened. I went to Brett, and he filed it because I wasn’t in the mood to face any assholes clapping me on the back for living out their teenage porn fantasies.”

 

Matt takes a shaky breath. “Is that why you didn't tell me? You thought I wouldn't take it seriously?”

 

“No, of course not. I know you wouldn't do that. But it’s kind of below your pay-grade isn't it? You beat up Russian mobsters and ninjas; you have bigger things to worry about than my kinky sex life.”

 

“Nothing that involves you is below my pay-grade, Foggy. And for the record; getting raped isn't equivalent to a kinky sex life.”

 

Foggy flinched at hearing Matt say the _rape_  word. “I know. And thanks. I just, I didn't know what to say.”

 

"If you ever come across her again, will you tell me?"  

 

"So you can defend my honor?"  Foggy laughs, because he needs to turn this back around into a joke.  He's told himself that what happened is no big deal for so long that he's afraid that if he changes the narrative now, he's going to fall apart.  

 

Matt smiles.  It's not a nice smile; it's a promise.

 

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT:  
> http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/5006.html?thread=10641038#cmt10641038
> 
> I've seen this done with Matt and Karen, but never Foggy.  
> What happens? Does someone say that he's lying? That it does not happen to guys?  
> What happens when the seemingly open book and goofy sidekick has some dark shit going on?


End file.
